


Let's have a date at the end of the world

by sleepymoon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Future Fic, God Ships It, M/M, Post-Season/Series 10, Sam Ships It, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 06:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4818416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepymoon/pseuds/sleepymoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When everything seems to finally be over, the Darkness defeated once and for all and the natural order of things somehow restored, with the most ill-timed coup d'état in Heaven's most recent history... God finally comes back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's have a date at the end of the world

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [hufflecas](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflecas). (Thank you! ♡)

 

When everything seems to finally be over, the Darkness defeated once and for all and the natural order of things somehow restored, with the most ill-timed coup d'état in Heaven's most recent history... God finally comes back.

The last surviving angels are all gathered together to witness it when it happens.

 

A girl with round-framed glasses, torn jeans, and black combat boots steps into existence, and her sudden presence raises a shocked chorus of gasps. The angels fall to their knees – Castiel among them, just as overwhelmed as his brothers and sisters – and they all listen raptly to their Father's words.

_I'm here to take you home, children,_ she says.

It has been millennia since Castiel last heard such a beautiful sound: a chorus of inhuman voices all rising from their vessels, reverberating in the highest spheres.

The angels are singing.

Castiel wants to join his voice, too, but somehow he finds himself unable to do so. His emotions too conflicted, he dips his head low, hot tears of relief burning in his eyes. There is a strange, inexplicable wrenching in his chest, where his human heart is scared and beating wildly.

 

Everything is happening so fast.

Most of the angels have already started ascending back to Heaven through all the different portals scattered around the world.

This time they're closing the gates of Heaven for good. There will be no going back.

Castiel is the last one left, standing a few feet from the gate with his Father at his side.

 

He said goodbye to Claire and to the Winchesters. He hugged Claire tight, then hugged Sam too, and Dean last. They had shared a very awkward moment, in which probably both of them had been expecting the other to say something but neither did. And so they had parted amicably, although uncomfortably, leaving things between them somehow suspended.

Now Castiel is about to go home, and never see his dearest friends again.

He's leaving his vessel. He will be back to being an angel, a wavelength of celestial purposes.

His lost grace will be healed and restored anew.

He should be brimming with gratitude and joy, but he only feels cold and aching, a lump settling in his throat as he walks with his father.

They approach the portal, a swirling three-dimensional tear in subspace. The bridge is still open, but not for much longer.  
All his brothers and sisters chose to return to Heaven once their Father spoke. Castiel chose that, too.

 

He's about to step into the opening when his Father clasps his wrist with her short, incommensurately powerful fingers, halting his motion. She clucks her tongue at him, eyes twinkling with such brightness it's almost painful to watch, even for him.

'Are you trying to fool your old man, Castiel? Are you forgetting I'm the one who created _love?'_

Cas meets her eyes and shakes his head, his shoulders tightening.

'Father...' he starts, denial ready on his tongue.

'I thought you wanted to go home, son,' she says.

Castiel swallows tightly. He thinks, belatedly, that he really can't wait to get rid of all these impossible-to-handle human feelings, especially those that he's experiencing now.

'I am going home. I'm rejoining my family, my kin,' he remarks, but she tilts her head to the side, much like Castiel always used to do with– even just thinking the name feels like a stab in his chest.

'Are you really, Castiel?' his Father asks, smiling seraphically.

She taps her fingers against his chin, just once, with endless affection, then holds out her small hand for him to take, olive skin and pink polish. Castiel looks down at it, feeling something tearing at his insides.

'The choice is yours, my wayward one.'

_So it is._

*****

 

Meanwhile, a few miles down the road, Dean Winchester is sitting behind the wheel of his beloved car, too busy pretending that everything is alright in the world. He and Sam have just said their goodbyes to Castiel, and now they're heading back to the bunker, the music blasting at full volume in the tiny space of the car to cover up the fact that it's been almost an hour and Dean still hasn't uttered a single word.

Sam is looking out window, his fingers tapping restlessly on the door handle, like he's trying very hard to restrain himself from speaking up.

He presses his lips together, chancing a look at his brother every minute or so, something of which Dean is perfectly aware. But his brother appears resolute to keeping his eyes glued to the road ahead, shoulders tense and forehead creased. Everything about his demeanor is screaming, _Back off._

This goes on for a few miles still, then Sam finally snaps and says, 'We shouldn't have let him go,' in a surly whisper.

The tension in the Impala increases exponentially, and Dean's face clouds even more.

'Shut your mouth, Sammy,' he growls back, a clear warning in his voice – a warning that Sam, once he gets going, blatantly ignores.

'I'm just saying, you guys didn't even manage to say goodbye properly. I mean-'

'Sam. I said _shut up_. Cas is going back to heaven, he's freaking peachy with it, I'm freaking peachy with it, and so you should be too!'

'Ooh, I see how it is, you're _peachy_. That's why you've been such a grumpy shit since we got in the car! I swear, sometimes you're-'

'Sam, that's enough!' Dean exclaims, voice rising, slamming a hand against the steering wheel.

'No, it's not! Not when I'm going to be the one who will have to take care of you when you're wasted and heartbroken, when it will finally hit your thick skull that Cas is _gone for good_ this time. Not when I know you'll be regretting letting him go for the rest of your _life_ -'

'You don't know shit, Sam, okay? Do you think I don't know all that, huh? I fucking _know_ , for fuck's sake!' Dean yelled back, now starting to get properly angry.

'If you know, then why didn't you _tell him?'_

'And then what, Sam? I should have asked him to give up Heaven over what? _Me? Us?_ For what exactly? To live a crappy human life stuck in a friggin' meatsuit, just because I might happen to miss him sometimes? Is that what you're saying?'

'What I'm _saying,_ ' Sam grits through clenched teeth, '...is that you should at least have told Cas how you feel about him, before letting him walk away! Not fucking take that choice from him in the first place! Jesus, Dean, you're acting like you never loved him at all!'

Dean swerves the wheel and slams down on the brakes, sending the car into an abrupt stop on the side of the road.

He bends his head, hiding his face against his hands on the steering wheel, his shoulders shaking with his ragged breaths.

Sam just looks at him for a few moments, then gingerly reaches out and touches his shoulder, a weak attempt at comforting him.

'Look, Dean,' he says, tentatively, 'I shouldn't have... I'm sorry. I overstepped. And if you really think this is for the best, then I'm on your side, like always.'

Dean finally lifts his head, and takes a good look at his brother's concerned face.

Then somehow he seems to gather all his resolve and he slams just as abruptly on the accelerator, making a U-turn right under Sam's incredulous eyes.

'If you say _one word_ , Sam...' he warns his younger brother, pointing a finger at him, but the threat is somewhat diminished by the fact that he's also blushing quite spectacularly. And because Sam is the best brother in the history of ever, he doesn't say anything, he only grins as wide as he can.

*****

 

 

When they get there, it's too late. The portal has sealed, and it's disappeared forever.

Except that Castiel is still there, sitting on one of the benches as he watches the empty playground with unfocused eyes, shivering in his trench coat.

The brothers don't notice him right away. Castiel watches the Impala skid to a halt, Dean bolting out soon followed by Sam, both running towards the point where the portal used to be open. He raises his head, bewildered at the sight. He had resigned himself to having to get back to the Winchesters on his own, hitchhiking perhaps, but here they are instead. How? _Why?_

Dean seems flustered, angry and sad, and Castiel can't fathom why. He sees him kick against the Impala's tire, and then sag against the hood, taking his head in his hands. Sam's mouth is turned down at the corners; he's clearly unhappy about something.

Castiel stumbles to his feet, finally making his presence known.

The brothers turn towards him. Sam is the first to see him, and his eyes turn wide as Castiel approaches. It's nothing, though, compared to the shock he finds in Dean's face as soon as the elder Winchester takes in the sight of him.

And for all his intents and purposes, the moment Dean sees Castiel, he marches straight up to him and starts yelling in his face.

'You absolute fucker! What the fuck are you doing here? After all the trouble we went through to get you here, you fuck up, and now you're _stuck_ here?! What the fuck happened? You're supposed to be up there in Heaven! What, you got lost on the way up? Did you need a freaking map, Cas?!'

He grabs Castiel by the lapels of his trench coat, shaking him violently.

'Dean. No, I... I chose to be here. I wanted to stay.'

'What?! What are you talking about? I thought you wanted to go home!'

'I do, Dean.'

'Then _why-_ '

'I _do_. That is precisely why I chose to remain on Earth. With... with _you_.'

At Dean's bewildered look, Castiel stares down at his feet and adds, 'That is, if... if you want me to stay.'

'Oh, fuck,' Dean says dazedly, like it's the most brilliant thing he can come up with.

Sam coughs pointedly somewhere from behind him, making him jump, and he blushes hard.

'Are you sure, Cas? Like, one hundred percent sure?'

Castiel nods solemnly.

'Of course I am. It's not a decision I'd make lightly.'

'Well, then, you're... huh... welcome to stay with us. I guess. I don't get why you'd want to, but... yeah. If that's what you really want,' Dean shrugs, feeling his face heat up again, 'Uh, I mean, yeah... whatever.'

_'Dean!'_ Sam grits through his teeth, glaring daggers at the back of his neck.

'No! I mean...' Dean amends quickly, stammering, 'I'm really... _really_ happy that you're here, Cas. Like, fucking ecstatic, actually.'

Castiel lights up like a Christmas tree at that, gummy smile and all, and even dares to take Dean's hand in his own.

'Me too,' he says.

They stare at each other in silence after that.

Sam starts to despair for the both of them.

' _So,_ ' Dean whispers finally, shifting his weight awkwardly between his feet, 'If this were a chick flick, I suppose this would probably be the part where we- uh... kiss?'

He feels panicked at the mere idea.

Castiel looks down at their joined hands, and Dean finds a little comfort in realizing that the angel (well, former angel now) is in a similar state of excruciating awkwardness.

But then he looks up at Dean again, flushed and smiling.

'I think I'd like that,' he says, and his blue eyes are crinkling at the corners, alight with amusement and fondness in equal measure. And Dean thinks, _To hell with it._ He takes a step forward just as Castiel does the same, and somehow, _somehow_ , they meet in the middle, as they always do.

It's strange, and a little stilted. Cas' lips are slightly chapped, and there's stubble prickling at Dean's chin, which is, if not entirely weird, still a little disorienting. But it's a nice kiss, and it's _Cas,_ and Dean is so pathetically in love with him that he might even try writing a sonnet about it later.  
Castiel's hands find their way to Dean's neck, the kiss suddenly turning deeper and wetter and significantly less chaste, and _Oh, well,_ this is pretty nice too.

 

The sudden, loud and totally unexpected honk of the Impala's horn makes them both jolt apart.

They're both flustered and panting a little as they turn wide-eyed to look at Sam, who's leaning against the Impala's door, grinning at them and looking completely satisfied with himself.

'Sorry guys, my hand slipped!' he says, snickering.

Dean has never wished to be an only child more than now.

'Okay, if you two are done sucking face for now, we should get back on the road so we can be home for dinner time. And then I guess you lovebirds can get back to doing _that,_ preferably very far away from me.'

Dean is about to retort when Cas beats him to it, his smile solid and grateful as he says, perfectly serious, 'Thank you, Sam. That sounds like a lovely plan.'

Sam snorts good-naturedly, rolling his eyes, and Dean huffs a laugh, circling Cas' shoulders with an arm to draw him closer.

'Okay, Cas,' he says softly, pressing his mouth onto his hair. 'Let's do just that. Let's go home.'

 

 


End file.
